


If I Were A Good Man

by orphan_account



Category: Pink Floyd
Genre: AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gay, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Very fluffy, can be interpreted however, i tried to be funny as well, just your typical pink floyd shenanigans, that's implied anyway, the rest of the band either doesnt know abt the relation ship or doesnt care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 11:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18365327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Roger acts a little too friendly with the fans. Will he be able to make up for it? David worries he may only make things worse... but the show must go on!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pinkflcyd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkflcyd/gifts).



> As per Pinkflcyd's request, I've delivered a fic wherein Roger really bothers David, then goes above and beyond to make it up! It turned out to be a little long, but I hope you enjoy! I really loved working with this request and ANYONE is free to suggest more, if they've got 'em. <3

When you love someone, you know it- it’s like an instinct. Likewise, when you’ve been with someone for months, you know they feel the same way about you. According to this logic, David shouldn’t be feeling so hurt right now.

“Why do you do that?” He blurted out. He didn’t mean to. Nobody paid attention to it.

David was sitting next to Roger behind a table where fans could come up to meet them after their show. Mostly, they attracted girls. That wouldn’t have been a problem by itself if it weren’t for...

“Okay, sweethearts, have a good night, now,” Roger said flirtatiously to a giggling group of girls as they sauntered away. “Sorry, David, what was that?” He turned to him once they were gone. “Why do I do what?” So he had heard him.

“That!” David exclaimed, flustered. He took a breath. Roger’s expression demanded an explanation. “That there, with the girls- they’re looking for your attention, and you’re giving it to them!”

Roger took out a pack of cigarettes, indifferent-- ‘ah’, David thought, ‘he’s being difficult tonight’-- and lit one between his lips. “You’re here too, therefore you’re doing the same,” he argued. It was unfair to say that he didn’t have a point… but he was missing David’s point. 

David wanted to say, ‘but I’m not whoring myself out like you are!’ But he knew better, and he said, “But they want to sleep with you Roger, it’s clear by the way they act, and it’s almost like you’re leading them on!” He crossed his arms, aware that his face was burning up. He hoped Roger would drop his oblivious facade. The worst thing would be for him to make David explain in painstaking detail what he meant- he wouldn’t put it past Roger to do it. He was, among other things, a tease.

But luckily, Roger was done pushing his buttons. He laughed and choked on the smoke, doubling over into a hacking cough. David leaned forward and rubbed the bassist’s back, putting aside their argument for a minute because he did love him, after all. Karma was a bitch sometimes, Roger ought to know.

Within a few moments, Roger straightened up. They were sitting closer together now, but David had removed his hand. “You make me laugh, David, you really do. Listen, it’s all part of the act, right? You know I wouldn’t be unfaithful to you.”

Right, he did know. But somehow, a seed of doubt had already planted itself inside David. He knew he loved Roger, and he knew the opposite was true. But, somehow, it wasn’t unfathomable that there could be a bit of truth behind Roger’s “act”.

“I know, it’s just… I don’t ever act like that,” David stressed. “I’ll have a polite conversation with them, sure. But I don’t find it necessary to, I don’t know, flirt with them.”

Roger took another drag, careful this time, and blew the smoke far away from David out of courtesy. “Aww, well it’s not my help you all can’t stand my charm,” Roger teased. “Y’know, you sound jealous when you say things like that.”

‘Only of the girls,’ David thought bitterly. Why wasn’t Roger listening to him? Was he ashamed? No, he showed no signs of it. He must’ve just really believed that his flirting with strange girls had no effect on his own boyfriend’s feelings. And maybe David didn’t need to be so sensitive but… he couldn’t help it. “Save it, Roger,” he dismissed, sounding colder than he meant. “I wish you would stop it, at any rate, but I can’t control you.”

“Of course you cannot, but--” and Roger stubbed out the cigarette in his ashtray, dusted his hands off and pulled David in for a meaningful hug-- “I will do my best for you.” 

The skies in David’s mind seemed to clear. A weight had been lifted. David squeezed back. So, he had been listening. He did care. It was a relief.

Roger then placed a quick kiss on David’s jaw. “There’s only one person I would do any of this to, and it ain’t those girls,” he whispered.

David had to bite his inner cheek to keep from melting. “We’re still in public, you ass,” he replied, equally hushed, but he squeezed Roger’s hand, so that he got the signal. They were back on the same page.

Before the night was over, a few more fans trickled in. Lucky Nick and Rick were back in the tour van, probably slamming back drinks and talking shit (in jest) about the others in secret. That was what David guessed, anyway. He wouldn’t be mad if he was right- given the chance, he probably would have joined them.

There was a considerable change in Roger’s demeanor when dealing with girls now. For David’s sake, he went for a slightly more aloof approach, while still being polite enough. David had no qualms with that. No matter what the bassist did, the girls wouldn’t stop swooning over him, but that was to be expected. They did the same thing to David- he just really didn’t care.

…

That night, David had a rough sleep. The bus was parked for the night. He had Roger sleeping above him. Rick slept on the opposite bottom bunk, and Nick was one over him. 

At one point during the night, David was tossing and turning, in and out of sleep-but mostly out. A slender arm protruded his vision, startling him. It was Roger’s arm dangling over the side of the bed. David gripped the bony hand, probably equally startling him. Something slipped out of the bassist’s hand before it disappeared. A note. David uncrumpled it and held it to the window beside his bed, through which the street light shone. It read, simply:

‘r u ok? trouble sleeping?’

Note-passing was a common form of communication for these two, especially at night. The others in the band still complained about the crumpling and un-crumpling, but it went over better than them sitting up talking at 3 am. That, they couldn’t get away with.

Dave wasted no time in pulling out a notepad and pen, which he kept under the pillow.

‘Dunno why I can’t sleep. Sorry for waking you. Gnight.’

He tapped the bottom of Roger’s bunk to alert him and passed up the whole pad, and the pen. Scribbling could be heard from above, before the items were passed back down. (This was how the cycle would continue.)

‘no no dont worry! im also sorry. shouldnta acted the way i did w/ the girls. been thinking about that. i love you sooooooooooooo much dav. id show the world if i could.’

 

Reading it this time, Dave felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn’t have gone that hard on Roger, maybe. Well no, he’d had to say something. Nevertheless, he wrote back:

‘I know you would. Bloody shame what that would cost us. I understand the reason behind your act. And I love you that much, too- plus an extra o.’ He slid this one up with a cheeky smile.

For a while, no note came back down, and there was no scribbling noise either. David assumed Roger had gone to sleep, and was about to shut his eyes again. But it turned out he’d just been deep in thought about this one. The scribbling resumed.

‘you beat me! ah well. that makes me think, though. what would it actually cost us, to let to world know? that i love you, that were untouchable. i wonder… hmmm... i think i know a way.’

‘Roger, I love the sentiment, but it sounds like you’re about to make a huge fool of yourself, and possibly myself. Please, don’t be scheming up there. I hate it when you’re scheming up there. Get some rest!’

David’s warning was of no use. The pad was handed back down, this time with verve.

‘nooo now youve got me thinking!!! i have the perfect idea. and its a surprise. yay!’

Worried, David pressed on:

‘Forget about it Roger! I know what we’re about, and you know, and that’s important. Now good night. I think you’ve tired me out. :)’

What came back this time was a crude sketch of Roger and David standing side by side, with a pointy heart in the middle. David had to laugh- the former had been drawn far taller than him, and with far more detail. Roger had exaggerated David’s nose so much, too. He wanted to write back up ‘You’re an amazing artist, can I buy this?’ before he heard a snort from above him, and he abandoned the idea. They dissolved into a fit of giggles which lasted for minutes. There was stirring in the other side of the bus.

“Go to sleep! It’s nearly morning! Christ’s sake!” It was Rick. Nick sent a sock flying at the guitarist’s face.

David put the pen and pad away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two! home stretch everybody!

“Big show tonight, heard the crowd here’s s’posed to be wild,” Said Nick from the driver’s seat. Rick nodded, riding shotgun and controlling the radio, while David and Roger sat cuddled together in the back, poring over a difficult crossword puzzle.

David read the next question out loud. “‘A four-letter word that means, in French,--”

“Oh, I hate these bloody things. How am I supposed to know what--” Roger stopped, watching (his head was resting on David’s shoulder) as his boyfriend penciled in the answer. “How do you know these that?” 

“It’s a secret.” David looked back at him and winked.

“Are you two even listening?” Nick’s narrowed eyes peeked at them from the mirror. They nodded absent-mindedly and kept at the puzzle, left unbothered for the rest of the drive.

By the time they’d reached the concert hall, David had tore through two and a half of those puzzles- he’d been saving up ones in the newspapers for boring drives like this- and Roger had gotten exactly five answers in total. Feeling accomplished, the two sprung up and grabbed their gear. 

Nick had to pat Rick’s cheeks to wake him up. “Show time!” He said, and Rick groaned, going to get his keyboards. He’d come back later to help Nick with the drumset.

Roger and David went in first with guitars in their cases and pockets loaded with picks. As they strode across the parking lot, a few cameras went off in their direction. They maintained neutral expressions, though they wanted so badly to makes faces at them. Again, at what cost. They were past the days of silly, colourful photoshoots- now, the strategy was to be professional.

When they got backstage- Rick and Nick caught up to them very soon- David remembered their notepad conversation. It filled him with noticeable nervousness. Roger caught on when David was tuning his guitar a little too shakily.

“You can’t seem to find that G, David, what gives? Stage fright?” Roger asked in a genuinely concerned way. He sat down beside David, playing an unnamed little tune on his bass.

“Remember what you said last night?”

Roger against him briefly. “That I love you? Yes!” He said it quietly. No one was within hearing range, but there were some sound and light technicians about that they had to be careful around.

David laughed halfheartedly, pushing him away. “Nooo, that’s not what I meant. I mean- remember how you were scheming something last night- oh, maybe I shouldn’t have brought it back up!” 

“Doesn’t matter, I haven’t forgotten,” Roger said with a toothy grin. “I can’t tell you what, but I can tell you it’s coming tonight. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

 

“Right… Just don’t make us look bad?” He pleaded weakly.

“Of course. I’d never.” With that, Roger made like he was leaning over to help with the guitar, discreetly kissed David on the cheek, and bounced back up. “We’re on in a few, so let’s get moving!”

…

The lights flooded the stage. Music rang out over deafening cheers. The show had started. 

 

David had gotten rid of his nerves in the remaining ten minutes before the show- now, he was playing with only one thought in his mind, which was to sound good- no, perfect. He worked magic on his guitar, weaving spells with his fingers and casting them simultaneously with his pick. He tossed the pick, like one might toss a pair of keys they wanted returned safely, out into the audience, then grabbed a new one and continued on playing in the same moment. The front rows of the crowd went wild.

Roger was at the front, too, quite spread out from David. The only reason David looked over was for cues- a subtle gesture of the hand that meant ‘change the tempo’ or a mouthed word meaning ‘shift into this key’ or whatever it might have been. 

Sometimes, the guitarist made the mistake of catching his eyes. Roger kept a very serious, focused face on stage, and only got emotional when he was singing. But occasionally, he’d send a smirk David’s way. How distracting! Was he trying to trip him up? 

They were nearing the end of the set, when suddenly Rick burst into this beautiful, mellow keyboard solo. This was unrehearsed as far as David knew, but no biggie- he improvised a melody that sounded like it fit. Nick’s intense drumming gave way to a softer, more jazzy beat.

Roger had stopped playing, leaving his axe suspended by just the strap. He grabbed the microphone out of its stand and was beginning to walk around with it. The crowd fell into an awe-stricken hush.

‘What is he doing?’ David wondered. Roger never interacted with the crowd except to yell at them for not listening, if that were the case. And so far, this crowd deserved no such scolding (not that they ever did, but according to Roger’s standards, there were exceptions).

But tonight was different. Tonight was the night he started a new tradition- introducing the world to Pink Floyd, as he put it.

David thought this was a joke. The band was famous- what more introduction did they need? But when Roger worked his way around the stage, he soon understood what he was doing.

“Back here,” he said from the back of the stage, “you’ll see the UNSTOPPABLE Nick Mason, who’s been keeping you dancing all night! Give it up fo--” He didn’t even get to finish the sentence. The crowd was giving Nick a round of applause, just for him. He stopped his drumming to stand up and wave his sticks about, then continued. When David looked back, he could see the bright grin on his face. That was genuine happiness.

Rick also was unwavering as Roger leaned against his keyboard to speak. “And here, the FABULOUS Rick Wright, who puts the soul into our music, truly!” Another heartfelt minute of clapping and hooting praise. Rick paused for a moment, turned to the crowd, and gave a shy bow. David chuckled. The pianist played on.

Finally- the moment David had been dreading on one hand and excited for on the other- Roger made his way over to him. David was sure his heartbeat would be heard by millions, as if amplified by the microphone. 

“And… last but not least, we have the BRILLIANT David Gilmour, who’s been shredding his heart out all night on that thing.” Unprompted, David responded with a squealing riff. “That’s the stuff! David Gilmour everybody!”

This prompted the largest, longest-lived cheer of them all. David was speechless, so he just waved, grinning in thanks. Unexpectedly, Roger pulled him into a side hug. It couldn’t have lasted longer than three seconds, and the audience didn’t think anything of it. They were still going. “Yes!” Roger shouted above them, “we all love David! I know I do!” 

That left David stunned. Roger went on talking for a moment, the band took a final bow, and that was it. 

He couldn’t believe Roger had said that. In front of thousands of people.

But then David understood. Roger had said he loved him on stage. Which, in context, didn’t strike the crowd as anything out of the ordinary. But to David, it meant absolutely the world. It was as he had said (or wrote, rather). They knew what they were all about, and that was what mattered. He didn’t have to say anything riskier for it to make an impact. Because when you love someone, you just know it, and it’s mutual.

 

David, who’d been keeping to himself since the end of the show, caught up with Roger in the parking lot. It was really dark, save for the glow of a few street lamps. The bassist, now aware of the other’s presence, turned around.

“David! You played so great tonight, I hope-”

The guitarist in question cut him off with a longing kiss. They held each other close for a few seconds before breaking away. Normally, he wouldn’t have been so forward out in the open. But it was so dark, no one would ever be able to recognize them without being as close to them as they were to each other.

“Roger, what you did took a lot of guts, especially for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked lightheartedly.

“It means I’m proud of you. And thank you. And I love you.”

Roger hugged him tightly. “Oh! Well, you too. Me too. And you’re welcome. In that order. Wait, no-”

David laughed, smooching him hard on the cheek. That was his man- adorably honest and imperfectly witty. All his, beyond a doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
